


Left Turn at Albuquerque

by 1_mad_squirrel, Laurie of the Isles (1_mad_squirrel)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-11
Updated: 2002-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_mad_squirrel/pseuds/1_mad_squirrel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_mad_squirrel/pseuds/Laurie%20of%20the%20Isles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder pays tribute to the late Chuck Jones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Turn at Albuquerque

**Author's Note:**

> In memory of Chuck Jones, 1912-2002.
> 
> For Mick. 
> 
> With thanks to Blue Champagne for beta and ideas.
> 
>  

Something was tugging Skinner from his slumber. With a last great snore the A.D. warily peeled open an eyelid and stuck his head out from under his comfy down nest. Yup, there it was, laughter. Laughter and slurping. Coming from somewhere other than their rightful place, namely in bed with him. 

He’d tried so valiantly to resist consciousness. This was Saturday, 7:00am on Saturday, and more to the point, the first Saturday in weeks when his workload hadn’t required him to be up and headed for the office  
by now.

As renewed barks of laughter drifted from parts unknown Skinner gave a long-suffering sigh and threw off the covers. Adding a groan for good measure he swung his feet to the floor and levered himself upright. This seemed a good place to pause in the proceedings, so he took a moment to yawn and have a good  
scratch. After a few minutes delay while he fumbled for his glasses on the night stand, and detoured to the en suite bathroom to relieve himself, Skinner pulled on his robe and set out in search of the source of his rude awakening.

Following the sound down the hall and into the den, he discovered the culprit. Mulder, in shorts and ratty robe, was perched Indian style on the sofa, slurping and smacking away at a cereal bowl balanced precariously on his right knee. The garish color of the contents of the bowl made Skinner fairly certain the main ingredients would shortly be launching an all out offensive on Mulder’s attention span. 

‘ Manic Mulder.’ Thought Skinner. ‘Yippee.’

A high-pitched whistle with a punctuating boom drew Skinner’s eye to a flattened Wile E. Coyote and a disgustingly cheerful Roadrunner on the TV screen.

“Mulder.”

Mulder turned his head with a smile “Hey Walter.” Mulder turned back to his cereal, looking and sounding for all the world like a five year old.

“What are you eating?”

“Lucky Charms.” Mulder answered, book-ended with more slurping.

“I don’t have Lucky Charms.”

“I know, I went out a little while ago and got ‘em.”

Skinner paused, and then. “You went out at the crack of dawn on Saturday for kiddie cereal?”

Mulder shrugged. “Yeah.” Slurp. Smack. Chortle. 

Another pause, a deep breath, and Skinner ventured “Why?”

Mulder rolled his eyes. “You can’t watch cartoons with Oat Bran, Walter.”

Skinner took a moment to ponder this pronouncement. “You went out like that?”

Mulder fixed him with a ‘have you lost it?’ look. “No, I showered and threw on some clothes.”

“Okay.” Skinner, mentally in Marine mode, thought ‘drop back, regroup’. “You got dressed and went out, then came back and got undressed?”

“Uh huh.” More slurping from Mulder..

“May I ask why?”

“You can’t watch cartoons and eat Lucky Charms in street clothes.” Mulder pronounced.

Skinner blinked. “Coffee.” He headed for the kitchen. 

A few minutes later, large mug of Sumatra Mandheling in hand, Skinner joined Mulder on the den sofa. Mulder had finished his cereal and was now concentrating fully on the television. Skinner glanced at the  
tube. It was Daffy, Bugs and Elmer now. Skinner fortified himself with a sip of coffee and assailed the beachhead again.

“So you just woke up with a burning desire to watch cartoons?”

Mulder flicked him an ‘Oh please’ look. “I couldn’t sleep, I finally got up about 4:00am and came in here  
to watch CNN. They had a report that Chuck Jones died.”

Light dawned. “The cartoon guy?” Skinner asked hopefully.

“Yeah.”

“Hence the Bugs Bunny retrospective.”

“Uh huh. I remembered from the last time I was sick that the Cartoon Network has a couple of hours of Looney Tunes on Saturday mornings. I never missed Bugs Bunny on Saturday mornings when I was a kid. This just seemed like, I don’t know, a fitting tribute.” Mulder finished, with a gesture that took in the TV, the cereal and his attire.

Skinner smiled. “Okay, you reminisce, I’m going to go get cleaned up.” Skinner hauled himself off  
the couch and headed for the shower.

A few minutes later Skinner was back in the den, showered, shaved and an in a well worn pair of gray sweats and FBI Academy T-shirt. He had a second cup of coffee with him, which he offered to Mulder. 

“Can you watch cartoons in sweats?” Walter asked with a smile, settling in beside Mulder.

Mulder grinned. “That’s one of the best ways to watch cartoons” 

The show had come back from commercials while they were talking, Wile E. and the Roadrunner again. They just sat and enjoyed for a while, silence punctuated only by Mulder’s barks of laughter and Skinner’s rarer gruff chuckle.

As the cartoon ended, Mulder leaned back, head flopped on the back of the couch and turned to look at Skinner.

“You’ve got to admire Wile E., he fails so spectacularly every time, gets the crap beat out of him, but he  
keeps trying.”

Skinner grinned. “So that’s where it started.”

Mulder bopped him over the head with a sofa pillow. “Better to take inspiration from Wile E. than Taz.”

Skinner’s eyebrows tried to make up for his nonexistent hairline. “I remind you of the Tasmanian Devil?”

“Ever seen yourself during one of my reports?” Mulder’s eyes danced. “Then again, now that I think of it,  
when you do your dervish act, maybe channeling Taz isn’t such a bad thing.” Mulder finished with a leer.

Returning the leer, Skinner sat back against the arm of the sofa and swung his stocking feet up into Mulder’s lap. 

“I would have thought you’d go in more for Marvin the Martian.” Skinner said, wiggling his feet in silent plea for Mulder’s attention.

Mulder’s mouth quirked at the end. He set down his coffee cup and began a loving massage of Skinner’s feet.

“Oh yeah, Marvin is classic. He’s so single-minded, so straightforward. He knows what he wants, he goes for it. Earth blocks his view of Venus: bye-bye Earth.”

Skinner grinned and moved one of his feet out of Mulder’s grasp and began running it up and down against  
Mulder’s groin.

“Walter! Not in front of the ‘Toons!”

“Later?” Walter asked in a hopeful tone. “You can make up for waking me up early on my first Saturday off in a month.”

“Later.” Mulder promised with a pat to Walter’s feet. “Later we can play “Open Sesame” and see   
about getting your sword to sing.”

End


End file.
